Chris Rose is a columnist for the New Orleans Times Picayune. He was a finalist for a pulitzer prize for his post-Katrina writings. He was recently voted favorite writer by New Orleans Magazine readers.
His writing has been a critical lifeline for me. The grief and depression that I feel about the fate of New Orleans would be much, much worse without the validation that he offers – validation that this place is really as amazing and heartbreaking as I feel it is.
In addition to his columns, he conducts interviews with local celebrities. He occasionally asks his interviewees the following question, which is the inspiration for this diary:
Without making references to food or music, describe the magic of New Orleans.
I give a few responses below, as well as my own reply. First, though, some background from this New Orleans Magazine article:
He was popular before Katrina, but his writing since has made him beloved.
Back when the city was becoming one with the lake, and people were realizing that home was not there anymore, Rose’s "Dear America" letter popped up on the Web like Mardi Gras beads out of the blue.
Evacuees snatched at it and forwarded it endlessly.
It said, in part: "... We’re gonna make it. We’re resilient. After all, we’ve been rooting for the Saints for 35 years. That’s got to count for something.
"OK ... we make jokes at inappropriate times ..."
Rose took his wife and children out of the city ahead of the storm. He wrote "Dear America" before he headed back. His own house Uptown was still there; but the city he had fallen in love with was in tatters. That was the story.
Since then his Times-Picayune column – rambling, whiney, wryly funny – has struck a chord with both the exiled who read him on-line, and the discontented returnees who have access to the actual newspaper.
Here is a link to the column.
I’ve been thinking about this question for a while. I was inspired to write this diary because of all the bad news coming out of New Orleans right now. I figured she needs some support from loved ones. I won’t go into that here, but if you are interested, check out nolalily’s excellent diary.
Back to the question:
Here are the interviews I found on the nola.com archive.
Jennifer Coolidge
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Rose's intro:
"Film" people know her as one of the ensemble members of the doggedly erudite Christopher Guest movies such as "Best in Show" ,"A Mighty Wind" and, most recently, "For Your Consideration." Mainstream movie-goers would know her as the flighty beautician from the "Legally Blonde" series. And everyone under 30 knows her as Stiffler's mom from the "American Pie" teen classics, in which she plays the Mrs. Robinson of the postmodern era.
His question:
Without making references to food or music, describe the magic of New Orleans.
Her reply:
It's the only city I've ever been to that has its own feeling, its own ambiance. It has its own eeriness. Sometimes I'll go into the park and this mist comes out of nowhere over the park and I feel like a vampire family could just appear out of nowhere and join me.
Like tonight: The wind is blowing and the mist is coming. I feel like anything could happen, like you could sprout wings in a second and just fly away. When I lived in New York in the '80s, it was such an exciting time and you never knew where the night could take you and I feel like this town is like that times 100.
Harry Shearer
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Rose's intro:
Among many other distinctions, Harry Shearer is a co-star of the Christopher Guest ensemble movies, from "This Is Spinal Tap" to, most recently, "For Your Consideration"; he is the only primary cast member of the animated "Simpsons" series not to have won an Emmy for his work; he is the scorching media critic for the Huffington Post Web site; and he is host of "Le Show," a syndicated radio program "now in its 21st year of award-unwinning service to the world," as his own Web site boasts.
His reply to the question:
I heard (photographer) Herman Leonard quoted on that very subject today, so I will defer to the great one. He said: "There's no place on Earth where I feel more comfortable in my own skin."
But Leonard doesn't live here any more.
I am carrying the torch for him. And he's right. It is the nature of the personal transactions that I experience here. The day-to-day is what I cherish here, the simple act of walking to the corner store to buy a newspaper and the conversations that you have or simply overhear.
The question has inspired me. I’ve been trying to put into words what New Orleans means to me without falling back on clichés or sounding like a tourist guide.
In formulating my response, I keep going back to this column Rose published a couple of days after the euphoric Saints Dome home opener:
A night to remember
Monday's celebration leading to and through the Saints game was transcendent and unforgettable.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
When they blocked the punt and scored the first touchdown, something inside of me that I didn't know was there broke loose. I let out a yell so loud that my throat still hurts today.
I fell into a human scrum that consisted of a tall skinny guy, a short woman, a cop and a beer vendor. Every layer of authority and sociology was stripped away. We literally fell on top of each other. I have never experienced a flashpoint of sudden emotion unloosed so fast.
No drug, religion or meditation has ever brought me there. And, I don't know: Maybe people in cities with great teams do that all the time but this was a crazy good thing. Love Potion No. 9. I started hugging everyone in sight.
I love that love. It’s how I felt the first time I went to the French Quarter after Katrina. My brother and I were doing cartwheels and dancing a jig, we were so happy to be there.
A confession, first: I don’t live there anymore. I visit all the time, as my family lives there. I’d be there if I could, but it’s not possible right now. One day, I hope.
It’s hard not to mention music and food when describing the magic of New Orleans. Come on, I can’t mention Big Chief and Crabmeat Cheesecake? Especially since I’m both a musician, and the lucky daughter of a fabulous cook. Fortunately, there’s so much else to celebrate. My favorites are people, trees, houses, and bars.
People
People in New Orleans are open, gracious, and generous. No matter how shy you are, you will find yourself in spontaneous conversation with strangers all the time.
When there is a party in New Orleans, everyone is invited. Grandmothers, children, co-workers, neighbors, you name it. There is always room for one more, so you can feel comfortable bringing your own guests to someone else's party. And if you don't bring your family, they'll ask "How's your mom 'n' dem?"
One of my favorite things about New Orleans is that local businesses are frequently named after the family that owns the business. You really know the names of the people who live in the community. When you meet someone, you often recognize their name, and it turns out, yes their family owns that business.
New Orleans is a small town for a big city. Whenever you meet someone, you try to find out how you are connected. The association inquiry usually starts with "where did you go to school". In New Orleans, that means high school, not college, no matter how educated the new friends. When someone has a new love, it’s always "Darlene’s neighbor’s brother" or "Beau’s boss’ son".
One time I had dinner at a friend's house in Seattle to meet his cousin from New Orleans. Here we are, 3500 miles from home, and it turns out that the cousin was one of my brother's professors, and her husband was my other brother's boss. That kind of thing happens all the time. It gives you a feeling of such connectness that I've never felt anywhere else.
People have great names in New Orleans. Names like Jimbo and Dookie and Suzanne (rhymes with Dawn, not Anne). Lots of great nicknames, too. I wrote this comment awhile back:
My dad hung out with Spider and Skeets. Tag, The Real Frog, Red, The Kid, Freddie the Hook, Bummer, The Swede, Black John, The Turf, Eddie the Hawk, and Earl the Pearl. There was Pops, Bones, and the Ghost, Kirkle, Pie Man Vic, and Freaky Frank.
Trees
Trees in New Orleans are magical creatures. I am mesmerized by oak trees, by the mossy hair, the knobby knees, the texture of the bark. City Park has a 300-year old tree called the dueling oak. It is the sole survivor of a pair of trees that was the popular spot to settle your scores back in the day. Lakeview has a tree that, at night, and from the right angle, looks like a man is hanging from it.
Trees and all plants are so vibrant that they grow right through things. I saw a tree grown right through an iron fence. Nature is so lush and tangible. You can hear it and smell and see it everywhere.
This is a verse from a song I wrote about New Orleans:
Oak like mother extends her arms
Feet encased in sinking street
Fluttering beauty, glimpse of sky
Canopy cools and steals the beads
Houses
Houses - I tried to write about them, but it’s too sad. I hope someone will post a proper tribute in the comments or link to a good diary.
Bars
And finally, Bars! Bars in New Orleans are community centers. My dad was a Saturday barfly. He hung out with his friends playing pool, telling jokes, and drinking Dixie. Once we were old enough to entertain ourselves, my dad started bringing me and my siblings with him to the local bar. Jukeboxes, and peanut machines, and those old-fashioned coke bottles, and dusty shuffleboard tables. It probably sounds crazy to you, but we loved it.
Here’s to The Boot, Metry Café, Miss Mae’s, Port of Call, Hofbrau House, Krazy Korner, the Goldmine, Moe’s Chalet, and gone, but not forgotten, Shanahan's.
I would love to hear your own thoughts and feelings about what makes New Orleans so special.